Cookie Kisses
by thewoodenchair
Summary: Dough. Frosting. Sprinkles. The perfect ingredients for cookies, but also for helping two best friends discover their true feelings in a food fight…A Troyella oneshot.


**Disclaimer**: I own nothing, not even the cookies.

**Synopsis**: Dough. Frosting. Sprinkles. The perfect ingredients for cookies, but also for helping two best friends discover their true feelings…[Troyella

**A/N**: The idea of a food fight has probably been used a million times over, but this fluffy plot bunny that popped into my head was just too cute to resist. If you guys like it, I'm thinking about making this into a kind of series: writing the same cookie situation with different HSM characters, for example Zeke and Sharpay or Chad and Ryan. Please review and tell me what you think!

_Cookie Kisses_

'Hey, you.'

Gabriella turned quickly from the kitchen island, a hand over her heart. 'God, Troy!' she exclaimed, trying to calm her racing pulse. 'You gave me a fright!'

Troy grinned apologetically, making his way through the back door and into the kitchen. 'Sorry, but I wanted to know if you wanted to come with me to the movies. There's a Lord of the Rings marathon which I thought you'd be up for…' His voice trailed off as he took in the scene in front of him. Gabriella, in shorts and a pink tank top that left nothing to the imagination, hair falling in loose curls around her shoulders, picking up one of the many bowls placed haphazardly on the counter, continuing her stirring. An open bag of flour, a half-used cup of sugar, a couple of packets of sprinkles, and numerous coloured bowls decorated the kitchen island. 'What are you making?'

'Cookies,' Gabriella replied, holding up her bowl so Troy could see the mixture inside. 'The oven's almost ready. I was just making the frosting.' Troy peered into another bowl she was pointing at, full of sugary-purple goodness.

'Nice colour,' he said, throwing her a sly grin. She rolled her eyes.

'Thank you. I'll have you know it took a lot of practice to perfect that colour.'

Troy pushed himself up onto the counter. 'Oh, really?'

Gabriella nodded her head, pushing her hair out of her eyes with one hand, leaving a trail of flour in its wake. She looked so cute Troy didn't have the heart to tell her about it. 'I've been making these cookies since I was ten. No matter where we were, or whatever the time, I knew that these cookies would always be the same. Delicious and very comforting.' She frowned. 'Almost too comforting. If I had less willpower I'd be as fat as a hippopotamus.'

Troy laughed. 'A hippopotamus?'

Gabriella shrugged. 'Well, yeah. You haven't tried these cookies. Trust me. They are amazing. It's difficult to stop even when you're full. I think these could even turn Mr Troy 'Basketball God' Bolton into a hippopotamus.'

Troy laughed. 'You can stop saying hippopotamus now.'

She looked up at him, her eyes twinkling cheekily, and proceeded to sing a tune she obviously had made up on the spot, 'Hippopotamus, hippopotamus, hippo hippo hippo, hippopotamus…'

Laughing, Troy gazed at his best friend as, satisfied with his response, she turned to look at the oven. Troy tried to stop his eyes from wandering up her slim, tanned legs, from watching the curve of her breast, the perfect arch of her neck, the curls that fell across her face as she leaned forward to check the temperature of the oven.

Gabriella, in Troy's eyes, was perfect. She was beautiful in every possible way, inside out, and knew him like no other. There were guys on Troy's basketball team that he had known since he was barely a foot tall, but Gabriella was different. He could confide in her, speak the truth, without having to worry that she would judge him; he didn't have to worry about being anybody other than himself. Troy thought he had fallen in love with her from almost the first moment he saw her, and knew he was only falling harder for her every passing day. He wished there could be something more than the intense friendship they shared, but agonised over the possibility that if he did try something, she wouldn't think of him in that way, and their relationship would end up beyond repair.

'What're you thinking about, Wildcat?' Gabriella asked curiously, having returned to his side of the counter.

He shrugged. 'Not much. How long will these cookies take?'

Gabriella smiled. 'Fifteen minutes or so. But Troy, even after that, I don't want to go to movies. I mean, we went to see that marathon last month. And you fell asleep within the first ten minutes.'

Troy gasped dramatically, a hand clasped over his heart. 'You wound me, fair lady!' She simply raised her eyebrows, daring him to contradict her. 'I was resting my eyes,' he argued. 'There was no sleep involved.'

She rolled her eyes. 'Puh-lease. You were snoring.'

'I was not!'

She giggled. 'Okay, you weren't. But the point is, I had no one to protect me when the big bad hungry orcs were chasing down the poor hobbits. I just had Troy Bolton's big fat head making my shoulder numb as he snoozed.'

Troy smiled. 'What if I promise I won't do it again?'

Gabriella shook her head resolutely. 'No way, Wildcat. You had basketball practice this morning. After a session with your dad the dark theatre is the perfect place to "rest your eyes".'

Troy watched as she rifled through the drawers for a baking tray. 'Well, then, what are we going to do?'

Gabriella shrugged. 'I don't know. Nothing, I suppose.' She threw him a teasing grin.

'But I don't want to do nothing,' Troy complained.

She sniggered. 'You sound like a three-year-old.'

He scoffed, and, carefully picking a piece of cookie dough from the side of the bowl, flicked it at her. It landed on the shell of her ear. Gabriella stood very still, and Troy tried to smother a laugh as she turned her head slowly to look at him, her eyes narrowed dangerously.

'Troy Bolton, did you just flick a piece of cookie dough at me?' she asked, her voice low and controlled.

Troy grinned. 'I might have.' He pulled another piece of the dough out of the bowl and threw it at her again. This time it caught in one of her curls, and Gabriella's face broke into a wicked grin.

'You're in for it now, Wildcat,' she said, and, in a fluid movement, had whisked the bowl of frosting from the counter and had proceeded to throw a handful of the sticky mixture at the tall boy. It hit his cheek, and his eyes widened. Grabbing the cookie dough bowl, he jumped off the counter and chucked some of the dough. It hit Gabriella's shirt, and she squealed, grasping and throwing the frosting with renewed force.

It was war. The kitchen was soon filled with high-pitched laughter and girlish screams (although Troy would never admit that many of them came from him, and Gabriella was too kind to even consider ever using it against him), as cookie dough and purple frosting flew through the air, hitting the couple involved in the food fight as well as various objects around the kitchen. The oven was soon splattered with cookie dough; the floor, once a beige tile, turned purple and slippery with the sheer amount of frosting being flung across the room. Troy, on seeing his bowl was now empty, grabbed the nearest thing on the kitchen counter, which turned out to be the cup of sugar. He threw it at Gabriella, laughing evilly. The petite brunette ducked too late, and the sugar rained through her hair and down into her clothes. She shrieked and skated across the slimy floor in a funny kind of dance, trying to rid her clothes of the tiny crystals. Troy was doubled over, laughing so hard he didn't even realise that she had seized the sprinkle packets, tore them open, and upended them over his head.

It was Gabriella's turn to cackle madly. Troy stood there, shaking his head like a wet dog in an attempt to get the small colourful balls out of his hair and ears. She squealed as some of them fell on her. He glared at Gabriella, and all but jumped on his best friend, trying to wrestle a packet from her grasp. The basketball player was much too strong for the petite girl, even when both were panting from laughter and physical exhaustion, and he won a packet of small chocolate sprinkles easily, ripping the packet open with his teeth and holding it up as a weapon. She moved from side to side, trying to assess his movements. But he wasn't the star basketball player of East High for nothing. The dark-haired girl moved the wrong way and caught a shower of chocolate sprinkles in her face. She spluttered, diving behind the other side of the counter.

'Gabriella?' Troy asked, dropping to his knees on his side of the counter, his voice gruff and mischievous. 'Come on, hiding's no fun…'

Trying to slow his breathing, he moved cautiously to the side of the kitchen island, clutching his chocolate sprinkles in preparation. On the other side of the counter, Gabriella, still giggling, tore open the last remaining packet of edible silver balls and put them in the remaining frosting, swirling it around with her fingers and grabbing a handful in her palm. She smiled impishly, and made her way to the side of the counter, holding her breath as she rounded the corner. Each counted silently, 'One, two…three!'

They rounded the corner; Troy pouncing on the squealing girl, knocking them both to the ground, while her handful of frosting was smothered into the light brown hair. His nimble fingers began to tickle her mercilessly, and the frosting bowl rolled out of her grasp as she struggled to breathe, giggling hysterically.

Troy grabbed both her hands and held them above her head, his eyes gentle and teasing. 'Do you give in?' he asked, using his free hand to tickle her stomach. She squirmed, trying to escape his grasp.

'Never!' she cried, only to have him lean in closer and reduce her to a squeaking pile of giggles as he attacked underneath her arms. 'Troy!' she shrieked, and suddenly, Troy realised the compromising situation they were in; him straddling her small waist, holding her hands captive, his face mere inches from hers. His laughter vanished, and she turned her face to his as he stopped his ministrations.

Gabriella could not ignore the jolt of electricity that ran through her as she looked into his eyes. The same jolt of electricity she had been trying to ignore every time he looked at her, touched her, laughed with her. She had imagined this moment for a long time, and she could feel her heart racing, beating rhythmically against his chest. The tiny silver spheres, caught in his hair, intensified his blue eyes, and her laughter faded away as she watched him, her eyes wide. His gaze moved from her chocolate-brown eyes to her lips, and Gabriella held her breath as he leaned in impossibly closer. He paused millimetres away from her mouth and flicked his eyes back at her; he seemed to be asking her permission. She answered his silent question by pushing her mouth up to touch his in what could barely be described as a kiss; it was rather a gentle brushing of lips, curving slowly into smiles. Troy pulled away gently, and then returned his mouth to hers with more pressure, tasting the sugary sweetness of the frosting. A chocolate sprinkle lodged at the side of her lip made its way into his mouth, and she tasted so good, felt so good, smiling into his mouth, into his kisses, that he lost his mind a little. He thought, irrationally, that he could stay forever in this moment, exploring her mouth, tasting her; he let her hands free and they moved quickly to tangle in his hair, tugging tenderly at the sticky strands, making him moan into her mouth from the pure pleasure of it all.

Pulling her into his lap as he leant her against the cool metal counter, he let his hands travel beneath her shirt, discovering her smooth skin, shivering into goosebumps as he grazed his fingers across her belly. Her mouth was hot on his, her hands too travelling beneath his shirt, gripping his shoulders. Impatiently, Troy pulled away from the kiss to pull her tank top up and over her head. He pushed her hair back, wondering at her beauty, those dark eyes full of lust, the unblemished honey-coloured cheeks, the cupid-bow lips, red and slightly bruised from his kisses. He leant forward again and Gabriella's tongue danced against his, her fingernails scraping across his shoulder blades, making him tremble. As her swift hands moved to his chest, causing the muscles to contract, Troy pushed her a little too hard against the counter. It was all it took for the open bag of flour, sitting precariously near the edge of the counter, to fall over and rain over the couple.

And like that, the moment was over. Gabriella pulled away from Troy, spluttering as the flour invaded her vision, hands flailing as she tried to stop the white powder from falling. The flour slowed to a small trickle to Gabriella's left, and she shook her curls out a little, white dust flying across the room. Troy coughed, and Gabriella looked up at him, a little embarrassed at his appearance, flustered, covered in cookie dough, white flour, and frosting. She fingered her own lips, red and bruised, and realised that she probably didn't look much better.

Troy could feel himself turning red. He knew he had broken the unspoken code between them. Would this be it? Did this signal the end of this amazing friendship they shared? He opened his mouth to say something, anything, but closed it again as Gabriella began to laugh, clutching her sides.

'We…look…so…funny!' she exclaimed through her giggles, waving her hand to indicate their appearances, covered from head to toe in flour, purple frosting, dough and colourful sprinkles. Troy began to laugh also, recognising the hilarity of the situation.

Gabriella wiped her eyes and leaned her head back on the counter. 'Thank God Mom isn't here. I think she'd go crazy with this mess.' Troy looked around at the kitchen, remnants of Gabriella's cookies spread across the room. There was even purple frosting sliding slowly down the window. Troy was wondering how that even managed to get there, when Gabriella sighed contently. 'I guess we should clean up.'

Troy turned to look at her, her hair splotched white from the flour, purple frosting swiped across her cheek, and the piece of cookie dough that had started this entire mess still decorating the shell of her ear prettily. Possessed by a sudden swell of confidence, Troy leaned forward and licked the dough off her ear, tasting the cinnamon flavouring. Gabriella gasped, and pulled his head closer to hers, sighing in delight as Troy began kissing his way down her neck, tasting the sugary frosting and the other sweetness that could only be described as Gabriella.

Pulling away, Troy smiled at the brunette timidly. 'Does this mean…' he began to ask uncertainly.

Gabriella smiles. 'That we have cookie dough in the most inappropriate places? Yes.' She giggles. 'That my cookies have been officially ruined? Yes again.'

He grinned. 'Doesn't matter. I prefer cookie dough anyway.'

She raised an eyebrow at him, indicating that she was fully aware of this fact from his previous attention to her ear. And then her face dropped slightly, doubt clouding her delicate features. 'But…does this mean that…there might be something between us that's more than just friends…?' She blushed, looking down at her hands, chocolate sprinkles melting into her palms.

He raised his eyebrows, a smile tugging his lips up. 'I'd like to think that that was more than obvious,' he said, smiling as she looked up at him hopefully. He scooted closer to her, cupping the back of her head in his large hand, wanting her to understand the sincerity behind his words. 'You're my best friend, Gab; you _know_ me. I can just be whoever I want to be with you – not the basketball star, or the only child, I can just be me. You are so important to me.' Her eyes became a little wet, and Troy lowered his voice to a quiet murmur. 'I love you, Gabriella.'

She beamed, cupping his face between her small hands and kissing him so thoroughly he could hardly think straight. 'I love you too, Troy,' she whispered huskily in his ear. She placed a small kiss along his jaw, mumbling sexily, 'Even with all that flour in your hair.'

He pulled away, his eyes narrowed mischievously. 'Oh, you're going to pay for that, Gab.'

She grinned in anticipation, brushing her fingertips tenderly across the purple frosting beside his right eye. 'I sure do hope so, Wildcat.'


End file.
